


A Feather in the Wind

by Lintoro



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hope, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintoro/pseuds/Lintoro
Summary: Years later and once again alone, Thor finds himself trapped hanging upside down on a remote planet with nothing but a magpie and his ghosts to keep him company.He makes the most of it.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	A Feather in the Wind

"You may not believe it, but this isn't the first time I find myself in this situation."

The magpie tilted its head as though it was actually listening. But then, magpies were intelligent birds. Cousins to ravens and all that. Perhaps it did understand.

Thor chuckled. "I know. It's ridiculous. But it's true. This is at least the fifth time this has happened to me."

The magpie hopped onto another branch on the dead tree it sat on and cawed. 

"Agreed. It must be fate." Five wasn't much when it came to tankards or opponents, but it was at least three times too many when it came to finding yourself hanging upside down with a snare around your ankle and no obvious way to escape. "At least this time the view is good."

He meant it, too: the landscape opening up before him was spectacular. The world he found himself in was small and sparsely populated and had a name he had failed to pronounce even after a dozen attempts, but what it lacked in size it made up for with its pristine forests and glittering waterfalls. It reminded him of Asgard, sometimes, and while nothing could replace his memories of his lost home world, he cherished the resemblance.

And by the looks of it, he would have plenty of time to enjoy it. He was trapped on top of a large hill, surrounded by all sides valleys blanketed by trees. The snare keeping him tethered to a gnarly and leafless tree remained a mystery: the chain both looked and felt flimsy when he reached up to touch it, and it clinked even in the slightest breeze. Yet it didn't budge. And without even a hint of civilisation visible in horizon...

Thor relaxed his body and eyed the magpie, which was busy grooming its plumage with its beak. "I recommend trying this in Muspelheim if you ever get the chance. It's lovely this time of the year."

The magpie left its feathers alone and let out a single reproving caw.

"Aye, I imagine the air there might singe your coat." Thor looked down into the valley. Magpies usually travelled in pairs. Where was this one's mate? Bopping somewhere in the undergrowth, seeking prey for their young? "I prefer this world too. It reminds me of the very first time I was trapped like this." He glanced up at the chain around his ankle. When the light of the nearest sun caught them, the links looked like fish swimming by the surface of a sun-mottled lake. "Well, not exactly trapped..."

* * *

"This is a terrible idea." 

Even after saying it, Loki continued tying the rope around Thor's ankle. When it was done, the knot reminded Thor of the nest of an extremely well-organised bird.

He scoffed. "If Father could do it, so can I."

Loki said nothing. Instead, he busied himself with tightening the knot.

Thor splayed his palm against the tree trunk. It was a fine ash, with roots thicker than any part of Thor's body and older than he and Loki put together — which actually wasn't that old, now that Thor thought about it — but it also looked older than any of the other trees on this hilltop far from the palace. A few feet away stood the protruding stump of its former rival, so ancient the wood had begun to turn to stone. Odds were no-one but animals had visited the hill in decades.

In other words, it was perfect.

"It's not about guts, it's about wasting my time." Loki suddenly said, pulling one end of the rope through yet another loop. He straightened up, eyeing his handiwork. "Besides, I think Father was joking."

Thor frowned and tried moving his ankle. The knot was so big it was almost cumbersome, but it wasn't as if he needed to go anywhere. It would definitely hold his weight. "He didn't sound like he was joking." After all, Father hadn't even cracked a smile.

"The only way dangling upside down from a tree for nine days is going to make anyone wiser is because they will know to never do it again." Loki's eyes narrowed. "But since you would have to be a fool to try it even once—"

"I heard you the first time." Thor crossed his arms over his chest. "Hoist me up!"

Still frowning, Loki took the other end of the rope. "Wouldn't this be easier if you climbed up first?"

"Just do it!"

"Fine." Loki wasted several seconds bolstering the strength of his arms through a cantrip. Finally, he tugged at the rope.

With a heave and a jerk, Thor fell flat on the ground.

He pushed himself up, spitting out a purplish-brown leaf well on its way to becoming mulch. "Loki!"

"Stay still, will you?" 

Thor growled, but did as he was bid. Slowly, pull after pull, his weight left the ground and rose ever upwards, till not even his fingertips could touch the forest floor.

He dangled from side to side, enjoying the view. He had practised for this moment by standing on his head for long stretches at a time, and had grown used to how different the world looked when his eyes were on level with the floor. But that had been indoors: this was like flying through an endless sky of colourful leaves, red and gold and yellow with splashes of darkening green, blending in with the still verdant foliage by the waterfalls and rivers in the horizon.

He spread out his hands and laughed. "It's like flying!"

"Nice try. I'm not trying it no matter what you say." Loki gave the rope one last tug before securing it to the petrified stump. "Besides, I _have_ flown. I doubt hanging there is anything alike."

Thor didn't have the words to explain it, so he didn't bother to try. It was different with no forward movement, of course, but as long as he allowed himself to sink into the sky that was now an ocean...

"Oh. Look at that." Abruptly, Loki stood up on the stump and peered into the distance with one hand shielding his eyes. "They noticed we were gone even sooner than I expected."

"What?" Thor snapped his head in the direction Loki was looking at. Far away, a small procession of palace guards was snaking through the woods, clearly heading towards them. At this rate, he wouldn't even reach nine hours, let alone nine days. "I thought you left decoys!"

"I did." Loki's glare was murderous even though Thor hadn't actually criticised his illusions. "That doesn't mean our real selves are invisible. Heimdall must have looked in our direction and ratted us out."

Thor cursed the Norns under his breath. It wasn't surprising: where in the Nine Worlds could he possibly hide without being spotted by the watchman of the gods? But that was why he had enlisted Loki's help. And what had it bought him? Maybe an hour.

Loki studied his upside-down expression, then narrowed his eyes again. "If you try to shift any blame of this onto me, you will wake up with your bed on fire."

"I won't do that. Unlike some, I don't lie," Thor lied. In any case, he meant to tell the truth. Father would see the attempt as proof of Thor's bravery, of his eagerness to follow in the king's footsteps. Any punishment he might receive was worth that much.

"You know..." Loki leapt off the stump and wheeled over to Thor, halting with his chest only an inch from Thor's nose. "I'm not sure it's wise of you to talk to me like that while you are trapped like this."

It was hard to form a legible scowl with your features the wrong way around, but Thor attempted one anyway. "I'm not scared of you."

Loki smiled. Thor could almost taste the venom.

The dagger Loki pulled out of his pocket was small, but its blade shone with blue sharpness as he drew it close to Thor's face. "Then clearly these past five minutes haven't been enough to make you any wiser."

Thor held his ground. Getting stabbed stung, but acting craven would leave a far deeper wound. "I said I'm not scared of you."

Loki's smile faded. "I meant to do you a favour." His free hand trailed up Thor's face before halting at the chin. The tip of the dagger suddenly glinted treacherously close to Thor's eye. "Since you wish to imitate Father in all things possible, I thought I would get rid of this for you."

It made him dizzy, seeing himself reflected in both Loki's eyes and on the flat of the blade, but Thor kept his eyes open. "I dare you."

Northern winds howled over the hilltop. Thor swayed in the gust. More than once, his eye came precariously close to the tip of the dagger, held firm and immobile in Loki's grasp, its blade so fine it was almost invisible...

Time crawled to a standstill.

Then, Loki took a step back and turned to look at the valley like nothing had happened.

Thor exhaled — since when had he been holding his breath? — and Loki swirled back towards him, eyes cold with icy fire. Pain flared in Thor's cheek, sudden and burning hot. 

He cried out, more in surprise than in pain. Before he could do anything more, Loki leapt across the petrified stump, the bloodied dagger still in hand, and vanished down the hillside like a scavenger bird fleeing a crime scene.

*

Back at home, Mother treated Thor's cut herself.

"It's not deep," she said soothingly, gentle fingers ghosting over the knitting wound. "It won't scar."

"What if I want it to scar?" As soon as Mother let go of his chin, Thor prodded at his cheek. The new flesh ached like it had been stung by a bee. "How many times do I need to be stabbed before I get something to show for it?"

"Your deeds will speak for themselves." Mother's smile, already flickering, was completely snuffed out for no reason Thor could see. "Get some sleep."

Thor crashed onto his bed as she left, huffing in protest. With everyone busy buzzing over Loki's little dagger stunt and the game of hide-and-seek he had played with the guards sent to collect them, Thor had evaded all punishment. Now he wished he hadn't. A grand adventure with nothing to show for it was nearly as bad as having to stay cooped up inside for the rest of the afternoon because it, in his mother's words, "accelerated healing." 

He turned his head towards the sunlight taunting him through the window, then pushed himself upright. Loki was wrong. He had gained wisdom. He now knew that no-one was really going to punish him for breaking some rules as long as Loki broke them more.

He didn't tell Loki as much when he next saw him, but he grinned broadly.

Only, Loki had smiled back. It had been a subdued kind of smirk, gone in an instant when Loki suddenly turned and left the room, but all the same it sent Thor a distinct and aggravating message.

_I still know more than you do._

* * *

The magpie had returned. To be more specific, a similar-looking bird with an equally curious gaze had perched itself on the same spot as the magpie the day before. 

Thor blinked away the dust and dew sealing his eyes half shut. Slowly, the black and white shape grew sharper. 

The bird tilted its head.

Thor decided it was the same bird as the bird from the day before. He smiled. "I would ask for your name, my friend, but my throat doesn't bend to crowing. You will have to do with a nickname."

He looked past the bird at the yawning valley and the blood-dyed sky below it. Between the two lay the fires of eventide sun. "How do you feel about Kveldsól?"

"Caw," said Kveldsól, presumably approving.

"Good. That's settled." Thor turned his head from side to side. It did little to help with the pains spreading across his neck and back like a second layer of veins. "I tried doing my morning stretches as well, but I guess I'm already as stretched out as I'm ever going to be." He looked again at the sunset. "Do magpies get kinks in their backs?"

"Caw," said Kveldsól firmly.

Thor relaxed, opening his fists and letting his fingers dangle in the wind. Temporary physical pain was useful, as a reminder of reality when one fell too deep into the recesses of one's mind. An anchor of sorts, even if right then Thor would have killed to suppress the growing stab of pain just below his left shoulder blade. 

He went completely limp. It didn't help. "Did you have a productive day?"

"Caw." 

It was a different kind of crowing from the previous two: softer and a half step lower. This finally convinced Thor he was truly holding a conversation with the corvid. A conversation which likely meant entirely different things to both participants, but a conversation nevertheless.

"I'll take that as a yes." He resisted the urge to reach out and stroke the bird's head. Even if he could contort himself far enough without dislocating his arm, odds were he'd only get pecked for his troubles. "So, why did you come back? For another story?"

The magpie's eyes flashed with the sunset. 

Thor smiled. "Right. The second time I hung upside down. Do birds here know of Risaland?"

No caw, this time, only a puzzled head tilt.

"No matter. I will explain as we go along. Norns know I have the time."

* * *

After half an hour stumbling out of the bog to which Fandral's ill-advised suggestion had taken them, followed by a long survey of the seemingly endless plains of dry brambles and coarse reddish dust ahead of them, it occurred to Thor that Risaland was not the most exciting destination for an out-world excursion. It might have in fact been the worst.

He stomped the last of the dried peat off his boots and checked through his belongings. The gifts they were supposed to deliver from Asgard were, against all odds, perfectly dry. He closed the bag and hauled it back over his shoulder. "Where did you say the king lives, again?"

"By those mountains." Loki, who had through some miracle of sorcery remained immaculately clean in spite of their swampy misadventure, now narrowed his eyes. "Before you begin blaming me, I would like to remind you of who precisely it was who asked Heimdall to send us into the wilderness instead of the capital for the sake of..." He twisted both his face and voice into a crude impression of Thor's. _"Adventure."_

"We could always ask him to call us back to Asgard," suggested Volstagg before Thor could swipe back at his brother. He had taken one of his boots off completely and eyed it critically, then put it back with a sigh. "Well, this one's ruined."

Thor channelled his mounting frustration into a grin. "Where's the fun in leaving now? Just think of the tale we get to tell back home once we finally make it to King Godmund's doorstep shoeless and covered in dust.

This comment elicited a tired smile from Lady Sif and a flash of amusement in Hogun's eyes, but little else. Still, as Thor strode onto the plains, kicking up clouds of rust-coloured dust, they all followed, Lady Sif, the Warriors Three, and Loki alike.

Even thinking back on it years later, Thor was never entirely certain where the storm giant bandits had been hiding. There had been no convenient rock formations or unexpected dips in the terrain, and no matter how dusty the air was, it couldn't have concealed the twenty or so warriors who had suddenly surrounded them. 

In the moment, in a land of snap decisions, he concluded that the bandits had been carried there by wind. That was all he had time to consider before their leader swung an axe at his head.

The cruel blade cleaved through the air, but Thor was already gone, moving, Mjöllnir practically slipping into his grasp. In a single fluid motion, he dropped the bag, dodged to the bandit's unguarded side and struck the hammer home. The bandit was lifted off his feet and crashed into one of his spear-wielding comrades. Both giants went down.

Thor swept his gaze over the remaining bandits. They looked wary now, eyeing him and his friends with caution. "I thought the custom was that robberies began with threats. What happened to 'your valuables or your life'?"

An old storm giant wielding a chipped sword stepped forward and spat on the ground. Three deep scars resembling the talons of a dragon ran across his balding scalp. "We'll get yer valuables just as easily from yer corpses. Better yet, we'll have done all worlds a favour by ridding them of a few more strutting big-shots who think they own the universe."

Thor looked around. Apart from Loki, who still looked like he was fresh out of a bath, the Aesir were wet and dishevelled and in grime-encrusted travelling gear He supposed their gleaming weapons betrayed their standing well enough, but before they had been drawn? Had these bandits spied Mjöllnir from a distance? Did they somehow know exactly who they were dealing with?

Loki chimed in, quite abruptly. "I am sure this is a misunderstanding. We are here on a diplomatic endeavour, so naturally some of the treasure we carry will—"

Thor took a step forward to silence his brother, feeling the familiar excitement of combat rushing into his veins. "We accept your challenge."

He could feel rather than see Loki's look of despair, but by then it no longer mattered: the boldest of the bandit crew, three in all, took one look at one another and charged.

Grinning, Thor threw himself into the fray.

Metal clashed against metal and flesh. A bright spell flashed in the corner of Thor's eye, and then he was turning, swinging Mjöllnir with all his might, the shouts and strikes drowning out everything but his eager heartbeat.

The bandits were hardly trained warriors, but their ferocity more than made up for it. Two reared towards him after the first three fell, pushing him back, almost crashing him into Fandral who was struggling with two foes of his own. He struck back, disarming one giant, but even his successful follow-up strike that left the bandit crumpled in a heap on the dust couldn't distract Thor from the truth.

They were losing ground. Soon they would lose it all.

Roaring, he hurled Mjöllnir out of his hand. It flew in a wide arc and crashed into a storm giant who had been in the process of sneaking up on him. One more down. He needed to thin the enemy numbers fast if they were to have any chance—

It was with that unfinished thought that he collapsed, hand still outstretched to catch his hammer.

Pain blossomed at the back of his head as though an entire ash tree had suddenly sprung forth from it. He heard distant shouts, and then the blurry shapes around him tilted, metamorphosing into indistinct patches of colour as a sudden pressure on his leg grew to match the fire in his skull. A part of him that wasn't consumed by the pain was dimly aware of the moment he was raised aloft, held upside down by his ankle, his cape trailing in the dust. 

With great effort, he cleared his gaze. Mjöllnir had returned to him and was still clasped in his hand, but already his grip was slipping. He needed to focus and aim and—

His fingers gave way. With a decisive thud, Mjöllnir fell, scaring up a billowing cloud of dust that forced its way into his eyes and nostrils. He coughed.

And then he was free, careening down and on the ground next to Mjöllnir. The air was pure dust, but he fought his head upright, ears ringing with the echo of the storm giant's scream. 

Through the haze he saw Loki, straightening himself and pulling his arm back. The next moment he was gone, and the cloud of dust became a maelstrom as the storm giant joined Thor on the ground with a crash that left many fallen trees to shame. 

Thor blinked his eyes clean to see a throwing knife buried to the hilt in the giant's left eye.

He didn't have time to stare at it, or even to think of what had passed. Ignoring his body's protests, he breathed in through his nose and reached for Mjöllnir.

Long after he joined the fight, long after the tide of the battle turned and the remaining bandits scattered, and some time after the Aesir patched themselves up and continued onwards, Thor fell back from the helm and fell in step with Loki. "Thank you."

Loki barely glanced at him. "Wouldn't you have done the same for me?"

He smiled in spite of his throbbing headache. "Of course." 

"Then I don't see why you must thank me." Their eyes met. The usual cunning flashed in Loki's eyes. "All I ask is that you remember this the next time you feel like raising your hand against me."

There had been something else to his eyes as well, something which only registered to Thor after Loki hastened onwards and left him to catch up. An emotion that had never been characteristic of his brother, but which had lately seemed entirely gone.

Joy.

* * *

"Did you ever have a mate, Kveldsól?" 

Kveldsól tilted its head. Clever or not, it may not have understood the words: Thor's speech grew more garbled each day he remained trapped. Still, it kept listening.

"A mate. Magpies mate for life, right?" Or was that swans? Thor had never made more than a cursory study of birds unless they were crowning the feast table. Now he wished he had.

Kveldsól made no response.

Thor sighed and gazed at the valley. He no longer recalled what it looked like the right side up. Trees hanging from a verdant sky against a ground of blue had become as natural as the ceaseless ache from the blood packed into his brow. He saw no sign of other magpies, or of any birds for that matter. Then again, his vision had blurred to where he wasn't certain he could perceive distant movement. How long till he went wholly blind?

"I always thought I'd mate for life once I settled down," he said absent-mindedly, still trying to track down Kveldsól's imaginary partner. "It never worked out the way I thought it would."

He had to pause then, the thin smile he had successfully sported fading away. He had kept himself occupied since crawling his way out of depression, thinking back on Frigga's words whenever he found himself stumbling. She went with him everywhere as he found friendship amongst his new allies, and adventure, and causes worth fighting for. They were always with him, all of Asgard.

Even so, there were times when he found himself removed from his body and looking down at his life from afar. Alone, trapped, surrounded by the ghosts of his loved ones, with the life he had known irrevocably gone. And now he found himself discussing his love life with a bird. He could only laugh, or else fall straight back into the pit of despair.

And so he laughed. Kveldsól tilted its head in response till it was practically horizontal. Likely it thought he had finally gone completely over the edge. 

Perhaps he had.

"It's fate, no doubt," he eventually continued in a hoarse voice, blinking away tears of mirth, feeling inexplicably drunk. So what if this was the most he had talked since striking out on his own two years ago? Once you have unsheathed your sword, you might as well wield it. "Most of the time my attempts at romance simply never went anywhere. And with Jane..." He paused, warmed by a lingering fondness. "I cannot blame her for ending things with me. She saw farther than I did. And then..."

The last of his laughter evaporated as he twisted his neck to better see the magpie. "No doubt it was some Norn's idea for a practical joke. To have so many people in your life you ought to cherish above all jewels that you never fully appreciate until it's too late. And of all the people you could have wound up cherishing the most..."

He trailed off. Kveldsól's black gaze remained focused and without judgement. Perhaps this was a common thing in the world of birds. You flew all around the world, meeting representatives of all tribes from ravens to finches, and for some unfathomable reason, your heart wound up beating for the most uncouth crow of them all. Or perhaps even for a magpie hatched in the same nest as yourself.

"I owe you another tale," he eventually conceded. "If you will listen."

And the bird listened.

* * *

"So much for constant vigilance."

Loki shifted out of the shadows as though shrugging a mantle of darkness from his shoulders. His expression remained obscure, nearly impossible to read from Thor's upside down vantage point.

The spark of malicious glee was easy enough to interpret, however.

Thor matched the sentiment with a broad grin of his own. It had been a good trick. Loki hadn't left his side once during the entire day, meaning he had had vanishingly little time to set up a snare in Thor's rooms. But there it was. And there they were. "How did you do this?"

"I shouldn't reveal my secrets."

"It can be a shared one."

Loki stepped close, tilting his head as though assessing the value of his catch. When he straightened it again, his eyes were on the exact level with Thor's, only the other way around. Even in the dim room, they looked bright.

"I crafted it piecemeal over the week." His fingers brushed against Thor's face, from beard to brow and down his cascading hair. "Each time I visited your rooms, I would leave behind a strand of the spell. When I came to pick you up this morning, I simply weaved it all together when your back was turned."

Thor was impressed, as much with his brother's patience as with anything else. "Congratulations."

"Mainly it proves that you leave yourself open to assassination attempts." Loki's fingers were still in Thor's hair, combing though the strands in an unconscious manner. "Had you looked around you just once before going to bed, you would have spotted the runes. Now I cannot trust in your ability to spot a murderer lying in wait, either."

"Assassins haven't been a problem thus far." There had been some, of course, but they were few and far between, and none had come close to truly claiming Thor's life.

Loki reached up and placed his palm over Thor's heart. He pushed down as though testing the integrity of his armour. "That is about to change." There was no-one to overhear, but he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "You have heard the rumours."

Thor had. Mere mutterings based on nothing but the sheer length of Odin's reign, but they did exist. He nodded.

"That is why," Loki withdrew, a gesture that seemed more dangerous than any touch so far, "we have to ensure you won't make this same mistake again."

Something flashed in the dark. Thor dimly wondered what Heimdall was making of all this when the cold touch of a well-wrought blade brushed against his cheek, a thought quickly forgotten as he waited for the steel to bite.

The steel didn't bite. Instead, Loki trailed the tip of the dagger across Thor's cheek, bringing it treacherously close to his eyes before moving on to trace his brow instead. It likely should have troubled Thor more, considering the mean-spirited pranks his brother liked to play on people, but with just the two of them in the room, after so many tussles and arguments and outright fighting, the gliding touch felt almost... peaceful.

In fact, he was on the verge of drifting off when Loki broke the silence. "This isn't much fun when you refuse to show even a hint of fear."

Thor cracked a smile. "I thought this was about teaching me a lesson and not about making me wet myself."

"One can do one than more than at a time, you know."

"Will it count as sufficient penitence if I beg for mercy? Or do I need to scream for help?"

Loki's eyes narrowed. The blade came to rest over Thor's mouth, pressing down until the fine, deadly edge was the merest fraction away from slicing his lips.

Thor held Loki's gaze, unblinking.

He exhaled when instead of cutting deep, the knife withdrew back into the shadows. Before he could breathe in again, the blade was replaced by Loki's lips.

He responded instinctively, clacking his upper teeth against Loki's lower ones as he dove in to deepen the kiss until he didn't have the first idea where his mouth ended and Loki's began. The angle made things awkward, and it might have still all been a joke until Loki cupped his face in his hands and closed his eyes, at which point Thor found himself sinking, groping at the darkness, yearning to touch in turn. 

Specks of light danced across his vision when Loki pulled away. For a few moments longer, he stood a mere inch away from Thor, so close he could feel his warm breath upon his mouth.

Then he stepped back, so far back that the shadows in the room masked the upper half of his face. "I never would have thought you so hard up as to react to that, _brother."_

His voice was void of emotion, but that in itself was a clue. He was hiding something, even if the nature of that something eluded Thor for the time being. The emphasis on the final word, however, was as clear as cloudless skies. 

He attempted a shrug, unsure if it would be recognisable the wrong way around. "I thought you preferred it when I play along."

"And I thought you preferred to lead."

 _I do._ But it was an inane statement that wouldn't make Loki's expression any more scrutable. His silence at least provoked Loki to continue. "How far are you willing to play along, then?"

Thor saw before him the paths the conversation could take, spilling forth like roots. He could still pretend it was all in jest, or he could risk it all.

And what was he if not a risk-taker?

"It is not a game to me."

The silence following the echo of his words was audible. It buzzed in his ears. 

Loki jerked his head. It might have been a nod. It might not have been.

Then, he turned around and strode to the door.

Thor balked. "Loki!"

Loki raised his hand. The magical chains holding Thor to the ceiling unravelled. He landed on his feet and sprang up and to the door.

The hallway was dark and empty. Cursing, he rushed forward, looking for a light. He had to go after Loki and... well, he didn't know exactly what he needed to do afterwards. But he would by the time he caught up to him.

That was the plan. Only, before he could reach the first intersection, orange light flooded the hallway behind him. Turning back, he discovered fiery runes blazing forth from the floor.

_The Bifrost. Same time tomorrow._

He watched the letters fade like cooling embers and disappear. They remained carved inside his mind, burning bright.

*

He would have gone, of course. Curiosity and boldness both dictated as much, and that was before touching upon his secret hopes. Less secret now, of course, after he had all but confessed his desires. But hopeful, all the same.

It wasn't as though Loki didn't know why he had been delayed. After all, Odin had asked them both to come speak with him.

And yet, when Thor later tried to broach the subject, Loki acted as though nothing had passed. He advised Thor to quit sleepwalking and focus on the impending coronation before he found himself absent-mindedly stumbling off the Bifrost. Whatever his intentions had been, he had changed his mind.

Thor had little time to feel hurt. The coronation was indeed right upon them, and with its failure, everything changed.

Everything changed.

It wasn't until the briefest of moments many years later, after a reunion so hard won and cut so unfairly short, that Thor finally received an answer. And what had become of it? Another memory, another ember which refused to die out. Another link in the chain keeping him suspended. 

A mere whisper in the wind.

* * *

_"What am I going to do with you?"_

Thor stuttered awake surrounded by the profound kind of darkness that follows a dazzling day. All he could glimpse of the sky was starless black.

He closed his eyes and listened to the echo of his dream. Had Loki ever actually said those words to him? Possibly. His memories of his brother had returned to the forefront of his mind, slow-knitting wounds torn open and once again raw, but he couldn't be sure.

The aftershocks petered to nothing. Thor sighed and became one with the night.

 _You just might die this time,_ the darkness whispered, coy and sweet. Thor discovered he couldn't entirely dismiss the prospect, but before he could consider it further, the surrounding stillness was broken by the sound of wings. 

Something black and white entered his sphere of vision and landed exactly where his half-blind gaze had settled.

Thor focused. A lithe, elegant magpie, awake in the dead of night against its nature. He opened his mouth to greet his friend, but deprivation and dry heat had finally sealed his throat shut. He didn't mourn its loss. Had he not grieved enough?

So he was silent. He remained silent even as Kveldsól fixed its beady eyes onto and began to change. He still made no sound when instead of a bird, he was staring at a man.

His vision faded, but he struggled to see through the haze of mist so abruptly blocking his view. Dark, well-cut robes, their exact colour obscured by the night, draped over a narrow frame belying the strength contained within. The barest suggestion of a smirk, ready to turn to sorrow. Ice blue silver set upon a pale face, as unmistakable as they were impossible.

As impossible as the hand reaching out and stroking Thor's weather-beaten cheek, but there it was anyway. The touch was cool and tender, if somewhat shaky. And real.

It was a real voice, similarly, which repeated the words from his dreams. "What am I going to do with you?"

In response, Thor closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. The fingertips glided across his cheekbone one final time before disappearing.

When his body hit the mossy bedrock, it did so without making a single sound.

He tried to get up at once. His limbs were too weak and shocked to obey, but he could just about tilt his head upwards.

Loki was inspecting the length of chain still attached to the tree, his lip curled in vague distaste. 

"The enchantment was well made," he finally conceded, folding his arms. "No wonder you couldn't break it."

 _How did you_ , Thor wondered, but it wasn't a question which demanded an answer, especially since the answer was certainly 'magic'. The real question he needed to ask was _how are you here?_ That too remained unuttered. A part of him suspected the answer was simply that his sanity had finally unravelled, but the stone and vegetation underneath his palms felt entirely wholly real. The air smelled like twilight. 

Loki's robes rustled as he leaned closer. His eyes reflected starlight from an entirely different sky. "This is neither the walk nor the sunlight I promised you, but perhaps it will suffice."

Thor willed something within him to move, to reach up and grasp Loki's wrist, his calf, anything he could reach. No use. He was petrified into a statue. Much like he had been the last time he had heard Loki speak.

He no longer questioned it when Loki knelt down next to him and cupped his face with both hands. He took the feather-light touch on his lips for the blessing that it was.

Darkness drifted back in like an old friend, but he saw enough to witness Loki let go, then straighten up and turn towards the distant horizon.

When the magpie flew away, the blue of its feathers glittered like sapphires in the first light of dawn.

* * *

Thor awoke with his muscles frozen into knots.

Drowsily, he groped for a handhold, finding dewy moss and cold stone. A lifelike dream.

Realisation came next.

He was upright before he could think about it, lurching like he had never stood up before. A familiar view opened up before him, curiously altered now that it was the right side up. He was alone.

The tree remained where it had stood, still bearing the remnants of the snare. A cursory examination suggested the weakest link of the chain had simply broken from the strain placed upon it by his weight. 

He sat down against the trunk and gazed at the clouds without truly seeing them, breathing in the morning mist. He had been wracked with fever and fatigue and the loneliness which had become his shadow. A perfect recipe to start seeing things that weren't really there.

And yet.

He stood up, shaky and fuelled by determination. He had been imprisoned on this hill long enough. It was time to descend from his perch. To find civilisation, and sustenance, and a real bed if the Norns allowed it. And then...

It was no good, chasing after ghosts. But chasing after magpies? Aye, that should do just fine.


End file.
